Justice League #7 is a weird fucking book. On one hand, it gives us a classic superhero team book… one might say that it’s so classic you’ve been reading it for years. And on the other hand, it gives a reimagined and modernized take on a classic hero, updating him by way of making you want to see him die screaming under a city bus. And on both hands, writer Geoff Johns shows us that superheroes are just like us: dicks. Selfish, irritating dicks.

Let’s start with the opening story, which opens with the Justice League in combat with with Isz. Seriously – on the very first page, we’re presented with what looks exactly like a black Isz from The Maxx if Sam Kieth had days upon end to ink them. Which is, in certain ways, a decent enough choice; God knows if I turned a corner and saw a bunch of those bastards swarming, I’d shit my pants. However, this is a comic book, and any comics fan older than 22 is probably gonna open this book and say, “Huh. That’s an Isz,” which started the book on it’s back foot for me right out of the gate.

In short order, we are reintroduced to Colonel Steve Trevor: manly-man soldier and leader of A.R.G.U.S., the Advanced Research Group Uniting Superhumans. This organization appears to be some kind of combination Government-sponsored supervillain armed response agency and liason to the DCU’s superhero community. And Trevor himself is portrayed as an ultra-competent yet cranky former soldier who has learned to kick ass and navigate Congressional committees without compromise. This kind of character is relatively new to the DC Universe, and would be an exciting development if it weren’t an eyepatch and the likeness of Samuel L. Jackson away from a crippling plagiarism lawsuit. Really, guys? Colonel Trevor, Agent of A.R.G.U.S.? What’s his next exciting adventure gonna be, pulling Uncle Sam from the Freedom Fighters out of a fucking iceburg?